Never Yours

Rememberance

A/N: This chapter may be emotionally distressing for some people and contains mentions of death, grieving, and some context of self hatred/guilt. If you want to skip ahead to the next chapter, that's fine I'll summarise it (without all the sadness and depth as best I can). Just wanted to make readers aware just in case they are sensitive to this kind of stuff.

Iceman's POV:

SINCE I'M one of the best pilots here, it really didn't take long to deduce that the jet was airworthy and all systems were up and running perfectly. I'll admit, I did have a little help from Slider but for the most part, it was me seeing as I was slightly more prominent than him (no offence intended) without being rude. I appreciated the help nonetheless though as it helped us to be up and away quicker than most. We'd barely reached five thousand feet when Jester's words echoed through our radio comms.

"Right, Good morning gents. This is hop thirty - one. Two weeks until target graduation however, the Top Gun trophy is still up for grabs and every point counts. Just remember that." He said before momentarily muting his radio channel for us whilst he corresponded with ATC (air traffic control).

I'd promised myself that I'd get through today without any longstanding feelings of guilt or anger but all of that was made incredibly difficult when Maverick flew up beside me; a deep, aggravating smirk plastered across his face, complementing his olive toned skin and beautiful green eyes flawlessly. More faultless than I wanted to admit actually. It pains me to say it but, that man is incredibly intriguing and talented. Adding to that, he's able to capture my attention within mere seconds even if contrastingly, he has the ability to irritate me in 0.5 flat. Breaking my trance of halfhearted anger and admiration, Goose spoke up.

"Well, it's bottom of the ninth. Score's tied. It's time for the big one." He said.

"What say you, Mav? You up for this one?" I smirked innocently, knowing that I'd made the implication of not only a dirty (and quite frankly childish joke), but also having the satisfaction of seeing that I'd gotten under his skin even if that was just a little.

"Just a walk in the park, Frosty." He sniped back, tainting my ears with a nickname he knew I so hated. I frowned beneath my mask.

"Yeah well, we'll soon see about that." I muttered. He just laughed in response and angled his plane to the left slightly as Slider delivered his report.

"Contact! Multiple bandits, 165. Two miles, looks like they're going away from us."

"Right, got ya! I see em'! Tallyho, right two o'clock. I'm in." Maverick stated, his radio signal crackling slightly.

"I'm in." I confirmed. Nobody said anything instead, we concentrated on manoeuvring our aircraft and coming up with a plan on how best to deal with the bandits. As we got down there, they saw us and split three different ways. Slider swore quietly behind me as I indulged in a steep climb upward (essentially increasing the G's by a substantial amount), following the aggressor up so we had at least some sort of advantage henceforth allowing us to engage in combat. Or practice combat that is. Multiple other fancy tactical manoeuvres were performed by my wingman before we joined back up and continued the pursuit. Maverick swore violently from behind us as I moved into place in front of him; giving us a better position to take our instructors down.

As the minutes ticked on, my confidence and concentration waned much to my dismay. I tried shifting my aircraft slightly to each side but it didn't work, I couldn't get a clear angle and I wasn't quite sure how best to approach the situation. It did not help that Maverick was muttering in disapproval and resentment over the radio.

"Oh come on! That's an easy shot even for you Frosty!" He snapped.

"And what's that supposed to mean?!" I retorted, angrily.